Speed Demons
by LadyKeyStroke
Summary: Demons from the past follow two street racers as they rediscover the life they used to know


This story comes from a love of the "Need for Speed" and "Fast and Furious" movies, as well as One Direction. There's a story on Wattpad and Tumblr called "The Fastlane" which is where the main idea for this story came from. I'm not claiming to be a car expert, but if you are, I'm willing to listen. I don't know what's about to happen in this story but I have some random ideas-I guess they can be called a plan…

The sounds of some engines are nothing but a low hum. There's nothing particularly exciting about the car, and usually not the driver either, so you don't bother with more than a glance as it lazily creeps by. Then there's those cars with the engine that you not only hear but feel. Like the bass at rock concert, the engine rumbles and you feel it in your chest, in your throat and that's before you even see the car. While I'd like to pretend I had one of the ladder cars, mine is more like the first. My 2001 GTR was usually a silent killer though, winning more than losing. Races were Friday nights (Saturday mornings, really) at 2:30 am and in the past month and a half, I hadn't lost a single race I participated in. I made some enemies but I gained the respect. When I pulled up to the line tonight, I planned to keep up that streak. And when the car beside me pulled up, I knew I would. The '01 Honda Civic beside me held a kid from the high school, a fifteen or sixteen year old who always boasted about his car but had nothing to say when the idea of racing came up.

The race was a mile down a straight four lane road with one smooth turn. Each car has two lanes and neither can pass directly in front of the other. As the scantily clad woman approached the space between our cars, I began my ritual: "Smells Like Teen Spirit" filled my car and I watched and waited.

"Ready," she called, eyes trying to see through my windshield. I revved my engine in response.

"Set," she did the same for the kid, who simply nodded in her direction.

"GO!"

My car shot off as soon as the word left her lips, his following just behind me. As my speed approached 90, I took the curve that I had learned so well, watching as he slowed to take a curve that he barely knew. As I flew down the now straightened road, I could see the stop light and, directly under that, the crowd waiting for the winner. Hands flew up and screams erupted as I slowed a few feet after the finish line. It was quick race, no doubt- nothing hard, no tricks just rubber and asphalt. The Civic pulled up just behind me and the kid jumped out, headed my way. I half expected to be accused of cheating or something about it being an unfair race.

"I seriously hoped I wouldn't ever have to admit to being beat by a girl in a race," he spoke, the usual southern drawl only slightly obvious in his voice.

"So don't admit it. But it is what it is," I smirked, leaning against my car. He nodded a minute before sticking out his hand.

"I'm Conner. If I take you for a drink, can we pretend that never happened?"

Before I could decline, one of _those_ engines caught my attention. A gray 2003 Challenger rolled into view, the engine choking any snide comment I had for Conner back in my throat. It stopped beside his car and cut off as the driver got out. No matter how much I loved that car, I hated who owned it. The guy stood at 5'10, a few inches taller than me and not including the height that his styled hair gave him. He wore a grey tshirt and a black leather jacket over black jeans and boots. Hate or not, the he was hot.

"Well, well, Logan Spenser. How are ya, Love," he spoke, calling me the pet name he gave me years before, knowing it made my blood boil.

"What do you want, Liam," I glared in his direction, standing from my place on my car.

The formerly cheering crowd was now silent as they watched the confrontation. He walked closer to me and I could feel myself shrinking in his shadow. It's been years since I'd seen him and I was hoping it would be years until I saw him again. Maybe, like...a hundred?

"Just got back into town, thought I check out the late night activities and guess whose car I spied flying down the road. So it made me wonder…" he paused eyeing me, obviously waiting on me to ask him what he wondered in that thick head of his. When I didn't react to his...whatever he thought he was doing...he continued.

"I wondered if you'd be interested in a little race with yours truly." he finally finished.

He pressed every one of my buttons and the giant red one that most people knew had a "DO NOT PUSH" sign on it. I glared at him with nothing but contempt. He knew what he was doing and he didn't care. But I guess some things never change.

"You son of a bitch," I spat at him easily. He didn't expect anything else, and he definitely didn't expect what I would say next. Anything to get that smug ass look off his face. "So let's go then. Right now." I spoke, getting in my car. He walked up to my lowered window and leaned in.

"Not your usual race, that's no fair. No, how about a road that we both know. How about Arno?" Again with the giant red button. I didn't say anything as I watched him slink back to his car. I followed him to the beginning of Arno road. I don't really know why I let him talk me into this but I did. I knew I wasn't going to win this, but here I was. And as we waited for the signal to go, I didn't play my song, I didn't eye Liam or the woman between our cars. I definitely didn't fight off the thoughts and memories that took over my mind. But it all went painfully clear when the woman asked if he was ready. I snapped back to reality just as she shouted for us to go. Arno road was a two lane system of twists and turns. One wrong move lands you in a ditch or a tree.

I did like always: I shifted on time, and took my corners easy...but it wasn't enough. I stayed close but I never had a chance against Liam's Challenger. As we approached the big turn. the last one before we had a bit of straight land, Liam increased his speed while I kept it at around 95, my chances of winning shrinking in the distance with Liam's headlights. When I finally crossed the finish line, the crowd grew silent. I got out of my car and went straight for the Challenger, yanking open the driver's door.

"One Spenser wasn't enough, huh? You had to try for two." he looked at me, a look on his face that resembled shock but I knew better.

"You know I was never good at that road. Damn you, Liam Payne. Damn. You," I spat walking back to my car. I had enough for one night. It was time to leave.

**So bear with me. I haven't written anything creatively like this in a year. Any suggestions at all, please tell me. Shall I continue? **

**xx**


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